OTA

Jun. 28th, 2017 02:37 am
willysilver: (Emerald Eyes)
[personal profile] willysilver
It was late at the Alpha, Will's Tuesday night haunt, and though he'd not come to perform he had come to drink. He'd had glass after glass of Kahluha and cream. Good, thick cream that he downed with the express purpose of getting drunk. Truly pissed.

But at some point someone had tugged at him and convinced him he needed to sing. His magic made him familiar even when his face did not. He was still getting acustom to the face that greeted him in the mirror. The crowd was convincing, though, and the call of music struck him deep. And so he'd taken a guitar from a man performing tonight and he took the stage.

"Just one song," he said into the mike and the crowd clapped and cheered. He tested the strings and thought of all the songs he knew. He decided on one that was relatively new. One from another musician.

Just stop your crying
It's a sign of the times
Welcome to the final show
Hope you're wearing your best clothes
You can't bribe the door on your way to the sky
You look pretty good down here
But you ain't really good
If we never learn, we been here before
Why are we always stuck and running from
The bullets?
The bullets
We never learn, we been here before
Why are we always stuck and running from
The bullets?
The bullets
Just stop your crying
It's a sign of the times
We gotta get away from here
We gotta get away from here
Just stop your crying
It'll be alright
They told me that the end is near
We gotta get away from here
Just stop your crying
Have the time of your life
Breaking through the atmosphere
And things are pretty good from here
Remember everything…


The crowd was crying and cheering at the same time as he finished. Cameras flashed as he descended the stage.

Fin was gone and Willy felt hollow. He loved the other fae and yet with the severance of their bond he felt...empty. He didn't grieve him as he otherwise might. He simply carried on. Stop your crying.

Willy passed through compliments and praise. He took the last of his drink, licking the cream from the ice cubes, and then stepped out onto the street. Someone offered him a cigarette and he took it, leaning against the building and looking up at the sky, wondering if Fin could see the same moon he saw.



(Outside the Alpha, one of the smallest bars in London. Fin has been gone since the Solstice war and Willy has a new face. OTA forever)
so_thoughtless: (hmmm)
[personal profile] so_thoughtless
Epimetheus wasn't like Prometheus when it came to powers and magic. He had power, sure, but he'd never mastered it the way his twin had. He hadn't needed to, really. He'd never been trapped in the mortal realm after all, he came and went as he pleased- Using portals. ...Portals he generally had others open for him. However, since he was traveling alone lately, the only way to pop back home for a bit was to crack one open himself, using the only spell he knew to do so. A very blunt spell, honestly, that Prometheus had scolded him time and time again for using. 'Spells like this aren't like garage door openers, you know. They don't just open one portal, they'll open any in range,' the other titan had scolded, though all Epimetheus had said in return was 'What's a garage door?'.

That had been some time ago, but Epimetheus had used the spell many times since. He'd never noticed any ill effects personally, and didn't have the foresight to see how it might go a bit wrong. So this morning when he'd popped home to see Pandora, he'd gone on as he always did- Oblivious to any trouble he might be causing elsewhere.

(Portals are opening and closing all over london, letting things into the city from other places, times, ect. The sky is the limit here! Have anything you want slip through into the city- Or maybe let your pups go stumbling through one themselves? The choice is yours! This post will be open all next week, so tag in and then check back often! As always, we trust you guys not to go too crazy with this power, but please, no wrecking the city or doing anything that might cause gamewide issues without checking in with us first. Also, like any plot, feel free to have your pups sit out or be completely oblivious to the chaos. Assume that Torchwood and the like are keeping it out of the papers. ;) Have fun!)

OTA

Mar. 13th, 2017 07:18 pm
vampireevolved: (Default)
[personal profile] vampireevolved
Godric had been away from Area 9 and his responsibilities there longer than originally planned, but reunited with Eric after decades apart it had been tempting to avoid thinking of going back. Skyping with Isabel and Stan shortly last night had left him unable to ignore it any longer. With the approaching dawn, he had assured Isabel he would be return to Dallas by the end of the week, not convinced he'd have two lieutenants if he left them to handle things without him longer than that.

Much of his remaining time in London would be spent with Eric, but there was time still to explore and enjoy the city and its people before he left. He had no plan, simply set out from Eric's after sunset and wandered on a whim. He rode the Tube for awhile – it really was one of the best ways to people watch, and he never knew what he was going to see. He stopped in at a few interesting looking shops, even a bar or two.

There was an openness to Godric's quiet calm, which seemed to welcome conversation from those who noticed him, and when someone approached, he greeted them with a small nod and a spark of interest in his eyes.



Find Godric pretty much anywhere he could reasonably be after dark. Don't worry; he doesn't bite. Slow/late tags welcome.

OTA

Mar. 8th, 2017 11:30 pm
pecked_by_birds: (\-_-\)
[personal profile] pecked_by_birds
When it came to figuring out where he'd been the past few months, the truth was that the titan had made minimal progress. He knew he'd purchased a vase that contained some of his power, was fairly certain he'd briefly been in Germany, and, at some point, had developed a taste for glazed donuts.

Why hadn't he liked these before? They were wonderful...

He was returning from a trip to the shop that sold the glorious treats, getting ready to open his shop- Only to be greeted by a small pile of dead rooks. Prometheus would never admit to having any sort of avian based fears, but they did make him uneasy. Mostly the live sort were the ones that made his stomach flip, but a pile of dead ones was, well... Enough to leave him deeply unsettled.

"Well, this can't possibly be good," he sighed, sipping his coffee and nudging one of the dead animals with the toe of his shoe. "...Definitely a bad sign."

Frowning, he looked up at the sky and awkwardly flipped it off with the hand that was carrying his paper bagged donuts.

"Miserable, randy old cu- Oh, hello, sorry, I'm just about to open up..."

OTA

Jan. 12th, 2017 09:29 pm
quartermaster_q: (tappa tappa tappa)
[personal profile] quartermaster_q
Q had managed to remain out of the field for a bit now, confined to his lab and Q branch, quite happily. In fact his world, as a whole, had been delightfully calm. He and Bond had spent the holiday abroad, doing things the office didn't need to know about... And he'd returned to London uncharacteristically chipper.

Today he was at a cafe not far from the office, hiding behind his laptop as usual- However, he seemed slightly less closed off than usual. Where he usually blended into the background, or made a point of not engaging with the world, today.... Today, however, he seemed interested, watching people pass by out the window, and even occasionally glancing up to see who was coming and going in the cafe.

In fact, he was so engaged with the world, that he didn't notice his laptop screen flicker strangely before returning to normal.

OTA

Jan. 7th, 2017 10:57 pm
london_spy: (hurting)
[personal profile] london_spy
He'd come into the new year clean, and intended to do his best to stay that way. More importantly, he was back on his medication and back to eating regular meals- Not that it seemed to be helping much. Some damage couldn't be undone easily though, and Danny was still painfully underweight. Worse still, he was a bit under the weather, and couldn't get in to see his doctor until the end of the month.

It was just a bug, that's what he kept telling himself- And only himself. He didn't want to worry Hex with this, the other man had already gone through so much because of him. Had put up with so much...

He'd pushed himself through a job interview that morning, and was supposed to stop off for groceries next, but a dizzy spell had nearly left him flat on the pavement. So instead he'd wandered into a small cafe, ordering a cup of tea and a sandwich before settling into the last booth in the corner. His hand trembled every time he lifted his mug, and he knew he looked a little pale. 

"It's fine," he whispered to himself. "You're fine. It's fine..."

Taking a calming breath, he lifted his cup again, his hand shaking so hard this time that it fell from his fingers. It bounced off the table, rolling a little before smashing on the floor, coating the shoes of a person walking past.

"Sorry- Shit, I'm so sorry," he said, reaching for some napkins as he spoke.

OTA

Jan. 6th, 2017 01:10 pm
alcuin: (dark)
[personal profile] alcuin
The call had come at about 6:30 in the morning. Alcuin had been the most frequent phone number in Hannibal Lecter's phone logs, and he had no next of kin. They needed someone to identify a body. They had already established that dental records were a match, so this was really just a necessary formality, they told him once he was at the police station, sitting there numbly. There was no need to show him the body itself, someone explained kindly, as to be frank, it was burned beyond recognition. But two pieces of jewelry had been found on it.

The attendant handed Alcuin a watch and a ring. They were Hannibal's. He felt like throwing up.

They told him they were still investigating, but the house was nearly entirely gone. The rapid nature of the fire's spread suggested accelerant. Arson. In other words, though they did not say it, murder.

They had let him keep the watch and the ring, and gave him the number of a grief counselor, and a police officer told him that they would be in touch about the investigation. They'd also asked him where he had been the night before. The answer was home, alone, and Alcuin felt sick with the knowledge that he could somehow be a suspect in this. Again.

He'd said as little as possible during the entire ordeal. Tried to think as little as possible. It was nearly 9am by the time he emerged from the police station and onto the city sidewalk in what seemed like impossibly bright light. He took a couple of deep breaths and then bolted over and retched into a trash can.
goodfellow: (Default)
[personal profile] goodfellow
It was exactly one year since the pre-opening of Saturnalia, and the club had become even more successful than its proprietor had anticipated. In celebration, he opened its doors again for a blow-out of a New Year's Eve party, bringing back the theme of Greek decadence from the year before. Now, mingled against the typical industrial decor of the club (smattered with graffiti style murals of Greek myths), there were decorations of white and gold and reproductions of famous artwork, including a replica of the David statue in the middle of the floor.

Many in London had received invitations, including anyone with even the most distant connection to Robin Goodfellow, along with extra invitations as well. There was also a line outside, and the bouncers had been instructed to allow people in with some amount of randomness. After all, what fun was there in a party only filled with the rich and beautiful?

Unlike last year there was no expectation of any particular dress code, though there were many dancers and employees in the crowd in the skimpiest of togas to admire.

Alcohol was for sale, bartenders were talented, and also those employees in skimpy togas made their way through the crowd with shots and glasses of champagne on a regular basis. There were many dark corners and private rooms, and the music even made for dancing was sexy. All in all, it was clear that the theme of the night was modern hedonism.

ota~

Dec. 18th, 2016 08:20 pm
kersenjr: (looking)
[personal profile] kersenjr
Bonnie was shut up in her room when she heard Kersen leave. She didn’t know if she liked being alone or not. She ventured out of her room more often when he was gone, but the empty house felt alien and dead.

She barely used the furniture in the rest of the house unless Kersen was around and she was trying to act normal. It felt wrong to sit on the couch and try to relax. It was like dragging a sofa into a cave full of monsters and pretending it was your living room. Mostly she wandered around with her arms wrapped around herself or sat in the corner with her back against the wall.

She was getting used to her newly amplified vampires senses, better at tuning out background noise, but she couldn’t stop hearing the sounds of the outside world coming in through the walls. It was louder than it should have been, but sounded reassuringly normal. Being inside the house made her want to choke.

She wasn’t thinking when she got up and went to the front door. She just went, and she didn’t know why.

She opened the door a crack and peered out. It was dark. She could see stars. The air on her skin felt colder than she had expected. The night was the same as it had always been.

She knew she wasn’t supposed to go out on her own, but she wasn’t supposed to be dead and trapped inside the house of a vampire she barely knew, either. So she slipped out and started walking, carefully at first, like someone might be watching. She didn’t know where she was going, and she knew she’d have to come back before dawn or she’d die again, for real, but she kept moving. A few metres from the house she realised she wasn’t wearing any shoes.

Being outside felt almost good for a while, but the further she got from the house, the more menacing the streets became. She couldn’t stop peering into shadows. She felt like someone was following her, but whenever she looked over her shoulder, there was no one. Knowing nobody was there didn’t help. She felt like they were gaining on her, and she wanted to run, but she had nowhere to go. She didn’t want to go back to the house. She quickened her pace a little, trying to ignore the panic that was screaming at her to move. If she went running through the street, she’d look like she was crazy.

Granted, she didn’t exactly look like the picture of mental stability. She hadn’t brushed her hair in days, and she was barefoot and hurrying down the street in a state of clear panic.

[IMPORTANT NOTE!!! Bonnie is a new vampire, and she’s not very good at controlling herself yet. Any (living) pups with magical abilities will smell far too delicious and she will lose control and try to eat them. You’re still welcome to tag them in if that’s something you’d like to play, but if it’s not they’d better stay away from her for now. Oh yeah, and it would be completely plausible for her to lose control and attack a regular human too, so if you’d like to play a dramatic vampire attack just let me know :Db :Db :Db]
londoncallingmods: (spoops)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
The weather today had been fairly pleasant, a mostly sunny day wedged between fairly grey ones. It wasn't warm, but the chill was minimal for this time of year, and there wasn't a drop of rain in sight. As night crept in, however, the streets slowly faded from sun kissed and painted in autumnal colours, to foggy and damp. An odd thing, really, since the forecast had predicted a clear and pleasant night.

It wasn't normal fog either, it was denser, thicker, and it carried an distinct scent, like cinnamon sugar and chestnuts. It was so thick it seemed to drain the streets of their colour, leaving the wold desaturated and grey. More importantly, anyone with a bit of magic in them would sense, quite quickly, that it wasn't of this world. It crackled quietly with power, dark and heavy. Unfriendly.

It was around nine pm that the local police stations began to receive calls, things they assumed were pranks at first, but soon began rolling in so quickly and frequently that it seemed something more was afoot. The evening news spoke of mass hysteria, warning people to stay indoors. Conspiracy blogs were lit up with chatter of chemical warfare, and some 'airborne drug'. There were reports of people seeing everything from long dead loved ones, to killer clowns.

Though despite the nervous chattering of talking heads and twitter addicts, most people were paying the supposed danger no mind. Clubs and bars on every block were blasting music and throwing costume parties, people were out with friends, wandering the streets and looking for a fun time. It may have been Monday, but that didn't seem to be stopping many people from enjoying the holiday.  

For the most part, everything seemed fine. ...The crowds and groups remained oblivious to the danger of the fog. ...It was only those who slipped off on their own, to have a quick smoke, to get some air or head home early. They were the ones in danger, they were the ones who's darkest fears seemed to emerge from the thick fog. 

Around 10pm, reports started to come in regarding a body found in Whitechapel, cut open wide and left to bleed out. No prints at the scene, no signs that anyone else had even been there. The CCTV footage had somehow been rendered useless, glitched out and blurred. A trouble echoed by every other security camera on the street. It was enough to set twitter and the internet off all over again, with talk of how the things seen in the fog might, somehow, be real.

(Happy Halloween! The fog is bringing fears and spoops to life! You can make the creatures and fabrications of the fog as personal or general as you like. Whatever works best to spook your pup. If, for any reason, you don't want your pup to see any spooks, that's totally fine too. It's not a required plot. Unlike last year, this time around the creepy things your pup might see can harm them and do real damage. Though they will vanish in the morning. If your pup is sensitive to magic in any way, they might sense that this magic is distinctly fae. If you have questions about what you can or can't do, just ask in slack! Though really, the only limit here is your imagination. Remember to check with other players before doing anything that might seriously hurt their pup, ect, ect, and have fun!)

Debut

Oct. 6th, 2016 08:46 pm
nirav: (Default)
[personal profile] nirav
It was strange not to be travelling all the time. Strange to be settling in. However, London suited him. It felt like a good fit, and he was at ease in the city. He'd found a flat he liked, already had a favourite cafe, a favourite book store... He was comfortable, happy. His only complaint, really, was the lack of inspiration in the scenery.

Honestly, the people of London were, to him, the most interesting thing about it. There was nothing else here that hadn't been photographed a million times before. A few seedy clubs were fun backgrounds, the occasional quirky boutique, but the people? They were the real stars. From the most normal or natural beauties, to the willfully odd and unusual.

They were his subjects, they were the focus of his work lately. Most he snapped from a distance, but now and then there was someone who just stood out too much to be admired from a distance. Not because of their beauty or look- Though that didn't hurt. No, more just because there was something about them that called to his camera. Right now was one of those moments, and this was one of those people.

"Pardon me, but do you mind if I take your photo?" he asked.

(New pup! Nirav wants to take your photo! Check his wiki and then tag right in. XD)

OTA

Aug. 14th, 2016 01:24 am
willysilver: (Default)
[personal profile] willysilver
It was a lovely night by all accounts. The weather was just cool enough for a jacket, the breeze making the leaves flutter and twitch. The moon hung bright in the sky, nearly full, and in the park there were people enjoying the night.

Willy was out busking tonight, though he had no heart for it. No joy, no enchantment. Tonight, as for the past nights, he sat on the edge of a fountain and he played sorrowful songs of lost love. He understood them now. He had never truly understood love, that much he had come to realise since Fin had departed. He knew desire and passion, he knew friendship, he knew possession, but he had never understood partnership or equality or even the necessity of respect. He knew now, though.

It was a hard learned lesson. His music wasn't the only thing lacking enchantment. His own visage was ashy grey, his luxurious hair drooped flat, the curls dull and limp. There was no light in his green eyes, they were flat and dull and dark.

His fingers strummed the strings mournfully.

I've stolen all the stars to make a wish we can fly
Away, away up high to that old place in time
Where our pictures never fade and our hearts don't lie
Won't you stay a while and watch our world go by
I'll keep holding on to you and your Saturday smile

Has our Autumn died
Help me find you again

I think it's love
I think it's love
That gets us through
All our goodbyes
So when we die
Think of love
I'll think of love
And thoughts of you
To lay me down
I think it's love
That keeps us new

If only it could be the very first time
Kiss me like it means something inside
I don't want to leave and I'm afraid to find
Our fate die in a dream and let me know you're not mine
Lie a little longer, my Saturday smile

Has our Autumn died
Help me find you again

I think it's love
I think it's love
That gets us through
All our goodbyes
So when we die
Think of love
I'll think of love
And thoughts of you
To lay me down
I think it's love
That keeps us new


The people who passed nearby were struck by the power of the fae's melancholy. He mourned not only his lost love, but the fact that he couldn't find him. He had visited the hotel many times but now the Phouka and Winter had gone off to make a home of their own and Fin did not come or go from the hotel anymore. And the longer he was gone the harder it became to feel him with any specificity in the city of millions. He knew he needed to find Fin to speak to him, do make what repairs he could, but he could hardly find the energy to even strum the stings tonight.

OTA

Aug. 3rd, 2016 02:30 am
codenameathos: (murderous intent (the milady look))
[personal profile] codenameathos
Oliver had waited until he had another day off to pour over the contents of the memory stick Victoria had given him. He had read every word of that file. Every mission she'd been on. Every death she was officially responsible for. Most of them aligned with British interests, but that wasn't the issue.

The issue was that this was Anne. His sweet, beautiful Anne, who had insisted that she had only been fighting off her brother. She was capable of these things, had probably always been capable of these things.

There was nothing on her recruitment, and he had no way of knowing when she had started for them. The file as it was started a little while after her 'death', but what did that mean?

He had waited until he had another day off, because after he was done reading, Oliver went out to the pub, a solitary figure huddling over ever-coming glasses of scotch at the counter. He only moved on when the bartender cut him off. A few pubs later, he was stumbling through the streets of London, until he found himself outside her house.

The address had been in her file, the house of late Lord Winter. He rang the bell and banged on her door, yelling for her to open - without ever using a name, what name was he supposed to use? - until he gave up hope and sagged against the wall beside her door, barely holding himself up in his drunkenness.

OOC: find him in the pub, on the streets, outside her door, as you prefer! From tipsy to next to blind drunk!

ota

Jul. 25th, 2016 09:07 pm
winter_wisp: (blue darker)
[personal profile] winter_wisp
Pixies, Winter's sort anyway, were very effected by their environment. Seasons could effect their magic, the colours of the woods they made their homes in could effect their looks, and feelings, emotions, and temperament of those around them could alter their mood. In fact, their very being could be altered if it was severe enough.

Winter was looking less white today, and more... Grey. Tinted slightly violet in some light. Everything about him was ever so slightly off, but the strangest thing about him was his height. He hadn't altered his potion at all, and yet today he'd taken his usual dose and found himself taller than usual. Five foot ten, to be exact. A whole inch taller than Finlay. Usually he'd have been delighted by such a strange and exciting occurrence, but not today. Not tonight.

Tonight he simply wandered the streets, looking less like whimsy and trouble, and more like a vicious creature from dark woods where mortals shouldn't wander. His clothes were no longer bright and cheerful, but were instead replaced with simple muted shades of grey and blue. Street lights flickered as he passed beneath them, and as he dragged his fingers along the brick wall of an abandoned shop, black vines seemed to creep out of the shadows, slinking along the wall and filling the cracks. It was dark enough that many might not notice them. Which was just as well, really.

As he reached the curb, the vines stopped, and Winter went still. A group of people passed him, laughing and smiling, and Winter felt a pang of something bitter and dark in his chest. A sharp stab of pain that perfectly aligned with a sudden crack of thunder and an unexpected mist of rain that began to trickle down, the drops growing fatter and then falling harder and harder.

The laughter faded as the group began to rush for cover, and Winter watched them, wanting to be pleased. Though it wasn't nearly as amusing as it should have been. As he wanted it to be. It felt so childish, so dull. All the things that had been fun to him, things that he'd enjoyed. Lately they meant nothing to him. His toys, his games, his wardrobe. They once had brought him joy, and now they offered nothing it seemed.
winter_wisp: (touch)
[personal profile] winter_wisp
The past week had been an odd one. Apparently Fin had been filmed sharing a bed with a man- And apparently that was bad. Winter didn't fully understand why that was bad, but he had tried to. Honestly. He'd even assured Fin that he'd seen plenty of naked people making love online, and that it was very nice- But Fin had looked vaguely upset by that, and had simply begged Winter not to tell him any more about what he'd been watching online, or how much he'd enjoyed it.

...Ever again, actually.

Still, this problem had opened the door for Winter to ask more questions than he usually would, and by the time Saturday night rolled around, he was armed with more knowledge he had been the week before. ...He certainly understood why people were so often inviting him to the toilet when he was out clubbing- That made much more sense now.

He also found it had altered the way he viewed his dance partners. Were they just having fun, or did this person hope for more than just a dance? When people touched him, was it just a touch, or was there more to it? Sex was something Winter had always been very aware of, but he'd never applied the possibility of having it to anyone other than Phouka, and perhaps his pixie kin. The idea that sex could happen with anyone was- New

And so Winter had spent the night toying with this new idea. Dancing a touch more provocative with some, avoiding others. He didn't think he wanted to have sex with any of the people he danced with, but kissing... Kissing might be nice. He liked kissing.

He'd kissed one girl right on the dance floor. She'd smelled of vanilla, and her lip gloss had been so shiny and pink... When she'd leaned in close as the music slowed down, he'd leaned in a bit more himself, pleased when she met him halfway and invited a long, slow kiss. She'd tasted like cake icing, but not long after she'd been dragged off by one of her friends, a taller girl with smudged mascara, and eyes that looked red from crying.

"Drama," his new kissing friend had said, rolling her eyes and scribbling her number on the back of his hand.

After that he'd danced alone for a while, before growing bored and moving onto the next club. This time most of his partners were men. They did not smell like vanilla, nor was there any lip gloss. Also, he noticed now how much more sexual it all was when he danced with other men. As though most of them only wanted to dance if they thought they might get something more as well. 

When it was time to leave, his last partner followed him out into the cool night, smiling at him and then gently pushing him back against the wall. Winter had started to panic- But then... Then the man had simply kissed him. Slow and sensual... It was lovely, and when the man pulled away, he only smiled, telling Winter to have a good night.

His pixie heart was fluttering, and he was so gleeful he hadn't noticed another man approach- Not from inside the club, but from a bar down the street.

"That your boyfriend?" the man asked.

"No, just a friend," Winter said, still smiling as he shook his head.

"Yeah? You got a lot of friends?" the stranger asked.

It seemed like such an innocent question, but there was something about the way he asked it that made Winter uneasy.

"I do, yes," the pixie nodded, pushing away from the wall and deciding now was the time to leave.

"Hey now, where you heading? You don't want to be my friend?" the man laughed, catching the pixie's shoulder and shoving him back against the wall.

Things seemed to happen in an instant after that. Winter tried to pull free, and the man struck him hard across the face. Once, then again. The pixie tried again to get free, but the man was much larger, faster as well it seemed, and his fingers curled tightly into a fist as they slammed hard into the pixie's gut. Winter crumpled slightly, his brown curls going white as shock turned to upset- And then anger.

Before the man could strike him again, Winter's magic took over. He wasn't some weak creature in a cage any more, nor was he a child. His magic, just like the rest of him, had matured and grown since then. Though it wasn't until this moment he realized how much.

The man stood frozen- Quite literally. No longer a man, only a figure made of ice.

"Shit," Winter said quietly, still doubled over slightly as he stared at his creation.
lcrpg_npc: (Default)
[personal profile] lcrpg_npc
The Queen's official birthday celebrations might wait for the better, brighter weather of June, instead of the actual date just passed, but there was no lack of things to do in London this week, even if it was cooler and damper than the week before. St. George's day festivities were scattered throughout the city, competing with celebrations of the four hundredth anniversary of Shakespeare's death. Getting around the city could be even more difficult than usual on Sunday, with multiple streets closed off for the London marathon.

There were exhibits - everything from graphic design to a survey of Sicilian history to the influence of underwear. And the same level of diversity could be found whether you were in the mood for music, theatre, good food, or late night fun. There was something for everyone, and no matter your plans - or lack of plans - you never quite knew what you were going to find, or who might find you.



[Week long gp! Tag in, tag others, and check in daily to see who's joined in.]
goodfellow: (chair)
[personal profile] goodfellow
One month ago, one of Soho's trendiest and yet least profitable dance clubs closed its doors. There were rumors for a while that the space was going to be turned into an upscaled gym, or perhaps gutted and chopped up into boutique shopping. But not much of anything seemed to be happening until just after Christmas, when the trucks were constantly parked by the service entrance and there seemed to be a flurry of activity.

Meanwhile, anyone who was anyone received a VIP invitation to the "pre-opening" of SATURNALIA, soon to be London's newest hot spot, but in the meantime hosting a huge party to ring in the new year. Togas optional but encouraged. Also receiving these invitations was anyone who even remotely knew Robin Goodfellow (or Rob Fellows), though his name wasn't on them.

The doors were also open to anyone, a line and bouncer required only because the space could only fit so many. But Robin had instructed the bouncer to be creative if not random with who he let in. As far as he was concerned, pulling in a street urchin or two over the hot starlets would not only improve the atmosphere but be good for business in the long run.

The doors opened at 9pm, and the place filled steadily as midnight approached. Inside, the club was clearly not finished, and there were many trappings from the previous space still in place - a large dance floor, several bars, private rooms, a couple of small stages for performances, an impressive elevated DJ table. For tonight, the theme was clearly one of the decadence of ancient Greek - decorations in gold and white and stone, replications (one would assume) of famous artwork of the time, including a number of statues. A copy of "David" cast in stone was a centerpiece, set up in an area that encouraged partygoers to take selfies.

The bars were not open, but prices were much cheaper than they should have been, coupled by the occasional appearance of Robin in his (somewhat skimpy) toga and gold-cast laureal wreath crown to hand out shots, mead, or wine to random partygoers. The point of the party was clearly not to make money but to build buzz, and from the length of the line outside after a couple of hours it was clearly working.

OTA!

Jun. 22nd, 2015 02:58 pm
alcuin: (Default)
[personal profile] alcuin
When Alcuin had time in the mornings, he typically stopped at a cafe for coffee and breakfast, and sometimes read the morning paper. (Though like everyone else, he had a phone and a computer on which to get his news, but he really liked the smell and feel of a fresh newspaper.)

This morning he was running a bit late (to where he was expected at the research lab at university), so he stopped at a newsstand instead. He ordered a cup of coffee, and while he waited, he scanned the front page of the daily paper. As he read, the clerk handed him the cup of coffee.

As he brought the coffee to his lips, the bottommost headline screamed at him:

WHITFORDSHIRE MURDERED, DISCOVERED WITH COLLECTION OF CHILD PORNOGRAPHY

The coffee cup slipped from Alcuin's grasp. It fell to the ground, the lid coming off and sending the coffee spilling all around him, including splashing up onto his bare legs.

He swore loudly, feeling his eyes prick with tears from the pain of the scalding coffee, even as the clerk said, "Hey that was your fault, you still have to pay for that!"

Alcuin threw him some money, including enough for the newspaper, and stood there on the sidewalk with his calves red from coffee burns, scanning the story and looking as white as a sheet.

[OOC: ICYMI some notes about this plot here!]

OTA

Apr. 26th, 2015 12:17 pm
dr_spencer_reid: (a lack of colour)
[personal profile] dr_spencer_reid
"Honestly, it all happened very fast," Valentine said, his brow creased in concern as he spoke to the agent. "I didn't even recognize him until you showed me his photograph just now- But yes, it was him, that actor. He was having a cigarette and talking to a man in a dark hooded sweatshirt. I couldn't see his face, but I saw his hands- They were pale. Whiter than you or I."

"Could you tell me anything else about him?" Spencer pressed gently.

"He was much taller than the other man- The actor, he was a very petite man, but the other man was taller- Nearly my height, I think, but heavier. Not overweight, but not trim, and not muscular," Val replied, hating that he couldn't be more help. "Surely there's CCTV footage of where they went next..."

Spencer just smiled, unable to share anything more. "Thank you for your help, Mr. Collingwood. Please, don't hesitate to get in touch if you remember anything else."

Valentine nodded, still looking a bit pale and startled as he stood on the pavement, looking over to where he'd seen a young man stabbed and hauled away. There was still blood on the ground, the wolf inside could smell it. ...He only wished the wolf could do something more.

Spencer returned to the small group of officers, waiting to interview the next person, and watching as the press slowly started to gather. That was the problem with celebrity abductions and attacks. You couldn't keep them quiet. Not now that everyone seemed to document every moment of their days...

He could hear one of the officers speaking to the press, and he frowned. This wasn't how they did things back home- It was too soon to be making statements.

At seven thirty this morning, Finley Alexander Flynn was attacked and abducted by an unknown man. We're asking that anyone with any information on this man, or Mr. Flynn's whereabouts, come forward to aid our investigation...

(OTA Tag Spencer or Valentine! Also check the OOC com shortly for more information on Fin's abduction.)

OTA

Apr. 23rd, 2015 10:48 pm
alcuin: (Default)
[personal profile] alcuin
It had been a while since anyone had randomly recognized Alcuin. He credited this in part to the fading memory of the city (despite the tabloid flair-up around the holidays), and in part to his decision to cut his hair. He'd also taken to wearing glasses, which were a prescription weak enough that he'd typically gone without them in the past, but he was spending considerably more time in front of a computer these days than he had when Anafiel was alive. Maybe it was a little Clark Kent of him, but he definitely wasn't noticed as much this way. And it wasn't even just being recognized, but he also got less attention. Which caused... more conflicting emotions than he would have anticipated.

In any case, this all resulted in his looking like a rather normal young man sitting at an outdoor cafe drinking coffee and reading a copy of Jon Ronson's new book So You've Been Publicly Shamed. It struck a bit of a chord with him, to be honest. He was glad he hadn't spent much time on social media last year. He really didn't want to know what Twitter had thought of him.

The cafe was busier than usual, perhaps due to the weather being nice, and it was a Friday just late enough for people to skip out of work early. He reached over and took his bag out of the other seat at his table in case anyone wanted to join him, as there were no more empty seats around.

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